


take control

by 0neType



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom Sans, Face-Fucking, Facials, Light Bondage, Light Resistance Play, Light Verbal Humiliation, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Sub Papyrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType
Summary: Sometimes, Papyrus just wants to get down on his knees—Sans is more than happy to oblige.





	

**Author's Note:**

> most of u guys have probs already read this **[from my post here](http://0netype.tumblr.com/post/151077955632/my-position-on-toppingbottoming-is)** —i just cleaned the fic up a little and cross-posted it b/c there is a sore lack of submissive ufpap on ao3 B'D

“Open up, Papy.” He teases, dragging the head of his cock along the sharp, serrated edges of his brother’s teeth.

Papyrus glowers at him, flushing a deep, humiliated red from his bound position on the floor between Sans spread legs. His femurs are tied to his fibulae to keep him kneeling and his arms are fixed firmly behind his back. Sans would have gagged him too—usually does when they do this—but today requires more thorough use of his brother’s mouth.

Besides, by now Papyrus knows when to keep quiet anyway.

Sans strokes the side of his brother’s face and admires the sight of his self-confident sibling trussed up below him. He ruts himself lightly against Papyrus’s clenched teeth, hissing when the pointed tips catch at him and leave pinpricks of pain in their wake. When Papyrus snarls at the motion and jerks away from his touch, all he does is smirk in response.

“Aww, don’t be that way, Boss,” Sans grins, hooking his thumbs firmly into the spaces behind his brother’s tightened jaw, “Open up for me, yeah?”

Papyrus refuses, grunting as he strains to keep his mouth shut and staring defiantly up at him. Sans feels hot heat pulse through his bones at that expression on his brother’s face, grips in deeper with him thumbs at the sight of it. His claws aren’t as sharp as Papyrus’s—he doesn’t maintain them like his brother is always telling him he should—but they’re still pointed enough to drag a wince from the stern skeleton's perpetually angry face.

“You gonna let me do this?” Sans lets his voice drop into a low growl, just barely hanging at the edge of a threat, “Or are you gonna be difficult, Pap?”

He rubs his length, hard and leaking, dangerously close to Papyrus’s scarred eyesocket, circling around the rim of it. Precome smears against his brother’s face, wet and glistening where it clings to his bones. The magic of his eye fizzles from the proximity. It’s a clear warning and his brother doesn’t miss it, shuddering reflexively as Sans continues to move lazily against him.

After a moment’s hesitation, Papyrus relaxes his jaw. It’s enough for Sans to gently pry it open and bring the tip of his cock up to. He brushes a hand softly over the back of Papyrus’s skull as he presses into his mouth. His brother averts his gaze, cheekbones burning brightly.

“You alright?” Sans asks and the tenderness in his tone is a momentary break from character, but it's especially important when his normally headstrong brother gets like this; quiet and pliant under his touch.

Papyrus answers with a flick of his gaze up to meet with his, lets his tongue manifest under the weight of Sans’ cock in his mouth. Sans groans at the feel of it filling in around him, hot and wet and giving against the pressure of his dick. He slowly buries himself further, keeping hold of his brother’s face from either side, grip loose and relaxed.  

“Ahhh, so fuckin’ _good_ ,” Sans praises, brushing his thumbs along Papyrus’s cheekbones even as his brother starts to get that antsy, self-conscious look on his face that he always seems to whenever he gets down on his knees for him, “Inch that mouth open a little wider for me, Pap.”

At first it seems as if his brother will refuse, eyelights darting up at him, fierce and imperious. Papyrus doesn’t say a word though so Sans doesn’t pay it much mind, already used to the internal struggle his brother engages in whenever he’s the one to submit. It’s something that happens even on nights like tonight, when Papyrus is the one to suggest it in the first place. So, he ignores the look Papyrus gives him—only deigns to let a single phalange slip back towards his brother's socket. He rubs the mess left there more firmly around the edges of it; a reminder of the consequences.

With some measure of reluctance, Papyrus stretches open a little further. Sans smiles, shifting his hips up and sliding further into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. His brother makes a undecipherable noise as Sans presses up to the hilt, filling him entirely. He can see the way Papyrus’s eyelights go hazy for a moment, soft and vulnerable in a way that they only get when he’s like this.

“You look perfect like this, Pap,” Sans whispers, dragging partway out of his mouth before slowly pushing back in, relishing in the slow drag of friction against his brother’s tongue, “So fuckin’ perfect with your mouth full of my cock.”

He follows his words with a few shallow thrusts and Papyrus relaxes into a moan, the vibration of the sound rocking up through his body from where they’re connected. Sans shivers at the sensation, pushes a little quicker in and out of Papyrus as his brother shifts around in his bound position. He keeps watch closely, notices it immediately when the tension starts to ebb out of Papyrus’s body. It’s not long before he lets himself go lax in Sans’ grip. Papyrus’s sockets flicker shut and he goes still and compliant.

Sans pulls out.

“ _Haahh—_ ” Papyrus gives a startled, open-mouthed exhale, “S-sans, what—?”

The dazed, confused look on Papyrus’s face is ridiculously appealing, especially with his mouth still parted like that, saliva and precome dribbling down his chin. His sockets are still partially lidded, posture slumped and defenseless. His brother is completely open to him when he’s like this, unguarded and entirely exposed.

Sans loves it.

He tightens his grip on the sides of his brother’s face, digs in so hard that even his blunt claws leave scrapes along the expanse of bone, “I wanna fuck you up, Papyrus.”

His brother’s sockets widen fractionally at that, and Sans doesn’t miss the way his whole body quivers at the words. Papyrus stares up at him, the heat of his magic still colouring his face hotly. Sans wants to run his tongue along it, wants to taste every bit of bone his brother has to offer, wants to feel the coarseness of his body and his scars catch against his conjured flesh.

... but maybe some other time.

Today it’s about what Papyrus wants.

His brother lifts his chin just slightly, lets his jaw fall slack. Papyrus doesn’t speak, but Sans can see the message in the heavy press of his gaze as he strains against his bonds.

_‘Then do it already.’_

Sans grins.

He slams back into his brother’s mouth without preamble, taking satisfaction in the way Papyrus half-gasps in surprise when he does. Sans doesn’t wait for him to adjust before pulling back and ramming right back in again, his cock thick and full against his brother’s tongue. Papyrus groans at the feeling making Sans shiver appreciatively at the reverberation.

“Fuck, Boss,” Sans pants, rocking his hips back and forth, “Didn’t know you were such a little _whore_.”

Papyrus squeezes his sockets shut with another barely restrained moan.

“You gave in so _easily_.”

He punctuates with a quick thrust and Papyrus breathes in shakily around him.

“Guess you must really love choking on my dick, huh?”

He gives Papyrus only a fraction of a second to register his words before he fucks back into him. His brother makes a strangled noise of protest, spine arcing outwards as he bends in reflex. Sans slowly pushes all the way in, watching as tears start to gather in the corners of Papyrus’s sockets, before stopping there. His dick pulses in the tight, wet heat of his brother’s mouth and Sans grips himself at the base to keep from coming.

Papyrus weakly strains against him but, as he struggles to pull away, Sans grabs onto the back of his skull with both hands and keeps him there, firm and unrelenting. He can feel the way his brother’s conjured throat clenches desperately around him and he groans and bucks into it even as Papyrus chokes. Sans presses his brother’s skull further onto him till he’s grinding the head of his cock against the walls of Papyrus’s magic and the tears are spilling over onto his brother’s face.

It’s when he feels Papyrus’s body start to go limp against him that he finally pulls out and his brother gasps aloud, broken and ragged and wet.

Papyrus hunches over, pulling in frayed breaths one after the other. The slick in his mouth drools over the edges of his parted teeth, tears mixing in as they fall down off his face. Sans watches for a moment before moving forward. He cups Papyrus’s skull in his hands and thumbs away the tears that continue to gather at his sockets.

He leans in close, “Next time, I’ll make you beg for me like the slut you are.”

Papyrus trembles in his hold and Sans presses a soft kiss to the top of his skull before pulling away again. He grabs himself in hand and strokes roughly. It doesn’t take much before he’s coming, body jolting with the sharp sensation of pleasure and painting wet smears of fluid onto his brother’s face.

He continues to strokes himself through his climax, keeping careful watch of the way his brother’s eyelights have gone cloudy with arousal, gaze unfocused. When he’s done, he reaches forwards and drags his fingers through the come on Papyrus’s face, letting it collect on his phalanges before he brings his hand down to his brother’s own neglected erection. He wraps a tight fist around him, slicking him up with his release before tugging at him, quick and practiced.

Papyrus comes with a hiss pressed out between clenched teeth.

Sans smiles and kisses him again, this time to the side of his face. Then he reaches around to undo the leather straps holding his arms together and follows with the same for the ties around his legs. As soon as he’s released, Papyrus starts rubbing at where the binds have left light bruising on his bones.

“ _Really_ , Sans? Do you seriously have to finish on my face every single time?” Papyrus says even as he inspects himself, voice patchy and rough, “Fucking disgusting.”

Restraints all undone, Sans settles in against his brother's side, leaning into him with a satisfied sigh, “It’s not like it ever stops you from coming.”

“It’s still gross.”

“Mmnn,” Sans snuggles up close to him, wrapping his arms around his brother’s middle, “Guess next time I’ll have to come down your throat.”

And with the way his brother goes red and starts to sputter and protest, Sans makes certain to file the idea away for future use.

**Author's Note:**

> it's so hard to think of titles for smut??????? like??? wh a t??????
> 
> srsly man, the title was probs the hardest part of this whole thing B'(
> 
>  
> 
> ~~i mean, other than sans' dick of course eyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYYYYYY //wink~~


End file.
